Out of the Blue
by supernatfem76
Summary: Sam is hurt in a freak accident. Dean is forced to make tough choices about his brother's care.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. They are all Kripke's creation. **

**Thanks to my beta, Shannon! A special thanks to blue peanut m and m for helping me to flesh my story out more and for all your suggestions!**

**Story Notes: I am trying something different with this story. It will be told solely from Dean's perspective.**

**Chapter 1**

"Dean." Carmen's sultry voice calls to me. The raven haired woman is sitting on the edge of the deck with her feet dangling into the light blue water, her red Speedo bathing suit barely containing her ample chest. She slips one of the straps of her bathing suit off one shoulder seductively, teasing me in her slowness, then the other. She smiles at me and slips gracefully into the swimming pool, disappearing underneath the water for a moment before emerging and throwing her suit onto my head.

"The temperature's just right. Are you going to come in or what?"

I move to the edge of the pool deck, pull my shirt over my head and strip off my blue jeans. Not to be outdone by her elegant entry, I turn my back slightly before I do a cannonball into the pool. She laughs as a small geyser of water sprays her. I swim closer to Carmen. Her soft brown eyes look at me as I move in closer for a kiss.

A moan.

Our kiss deepens.

Another moan.

And didn't that just sound like…

"Sammy!"

My eyes fly open as I look to my right and the grizzly sight that befalls me. A black Ford-F150 is resting against Sam's bed. Bricks are strewn all over the beige carpet. Half of the far wall is in the rear of the vehicle and Sam; Sam is lying on the hood of the truck. I rush to his side. His eyes are closed and for a second I stop. But the sight of Sam's blood pouring from the back of his head spurs me into action, blood that is now staining the cracked windshield crimson.

"Sam, Sammy."

Silence.

My fingers search for a pulse. I breathe a sigh of relief when I find it. Sammy's heart is beating faster than it should be, but at least it's still beating.

A twenty something man staggers out of the truck. He looks like one of those college kids I saw roaming around Stanford's campus as I searched for Sam. His bloodshot eyes look at me, confusion and laughter glistening in them.

"Is this valet parking?"

His yellow polo shirt bunches up as I grab him. The stench of alcohol emanating from him is enough to make me nauseous. "You stupid sonuvabitch."

I flatten him with one punch. I really feel like beating him to a pulp but I need to tend to Sam. I grab all the towels I can find, rushing back to Sam I press one firmly against my brother's head. There's just so much blood.

"Stay with me, Sammy." I cry as I reach for my cell on the nightstand and prepare to call 911.

Flashing red lights spill into the room as an ambulance pulls into the parking lot stopping me, my phone slips from my hand and onto the grungy carpet as I turn my attention back to my brother. _Someone must have called already_. Two paramedics come to the front door with a stretcher, creating a battle inside me, forcing me to leave Sam yet again to let them in. They take their time assessing him, unwilling to move him before they feel ready to do so, strapping a neck brace on and applying a bandage to Sam's wound before securing him to the backboard and lifting him onto the gurney.

"What's his name?"

"Sam…Sam Deacon."

I climb into the back of the ambulance with Sam and one of the medics, his partner quickly closes the back doors before jumping into the driver's seat and setting the vehicle in motion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. They are all Kripke's creation. **

**Thanks to my beta, Shannon! A special thanks to blue peanut m and m for helping me to flesh my story out more and for all your suggestions!**

**Chapter 2**

After numerous trips to the hospitals over the years, you would think I would be used to hospitals by now but I'm not. I hate watching each minute tick away. The not knowing. Feeling helpless. It's enough to drive someone crazy.

Some newscaster drones on about the latest news. A little girl with long, brown pigtails keeps asking her father when they will know something about her brother.

The doors open.

"Jay Landing's family." The doctor looks young. Probably straight out of med school. He has that same calm demeanor that seasoned doctors have but his eyes tell a different story.

The little girl hops off her father's lap and they walk slowly over to the doctor.

"How's my boy?"

"We did everything we could but Jay succumbed to his injuries. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Jay's…dead?" The man tries to keep it together but I can hear the sadness in his voice.

His little girl tugs on his jacket. "What's going on, Dad? Can we see Jay now?"

He crouches down to her level. "Daisy, you know how you go to sleep at night?"

She nods. "Yeah."

Her father's voice starts to break. "Well, your brother's sleeping but he will never wake up."

"Never. But I want Jay to wake up."

The man begins to cry as he hugs Daisy. "Me too, honey." He stands and faces the doctor. "Can we see him?"

"Yes. Is there anyone I can call for you?"

"No, my wife died a couple of years ago and my parents live out of state."

As they walk through the sliding doors, I understand their pain. Losing a loved one is never easy. It took a while for me to get over my dad's death. I couldn't take it if I lost… I quickly wipe that thought from my mind. Sam's going to be okay. He has to be.

"Sam Deacon's family." The doctor is dressed in green scrubs. He's a little shorter than me. His hairline has receded to the middle of his head.

I walk over to him. "I'm Sam's brother, Dean."

"I'm Doctor Sheen. I worked on your brother when he was brought into the ER."

"So how is he?"

"Your brother has suffered a severe head trauma. Right now he's in surgery."

"Is my brother going to be okay?"

"It's too early to tell."

"When can I see him?"

"His surgery will probably take a couple of hours. After his surgery, his surgeon will come talk to you. Sam will go into recovery and onto the ICU. Once he is settled in the ICU, you should be able to see him. Do you have any other questions for me?"

"What floor is the ICU on?"

"The fifth floor. You'll see the waiting room as soon as you get off the elevator."

"Thanks, Doc."

I follow the overhead signs to the elevators and punch the up arrow button.

Sam's still alive but I still have no idea what kind of shape he's in. I try to remain positive as I ride the elevator up to five but given our family's luck that is really hard to do. As soon as the elevator doors open, I walk several feet to the waiting area, drop heavily on a sofa and prepare for the long wait.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. They are all Kripke's creation. **

**Thanks to my beta, Shannon! A special thanks to blue peanut m and m for helping me to flesh my story out more and for all your suggestions!  
**

**Chapter 3**

I keep rubbing my eyes and getting up periodically so I don't fall asleep. I glance at the clock on the far wall. Two and half hours since Sam went into surgery. I could really use some coffee but I'm afraid to leave to get some because in that moment a doctor could come with news about Sammy. While I'm stretching an older doctor in blue scrubs swishes into the waiting room. All his silver hair is barely able to fit underneath his surgical cap.

His blue eyes scan the waiting room. "Deacon family."

"That would be me." I walk over to him. "I'm Sam's brother, Dean." I extend my hand but the surgeon refuses to shake it. _He's not making a good impression on me already._

"Dr. Hastings."

"How did the surgery go?"

"I was able to stop the bleeding but your brother has suffered a severe brain injury. He's in a coma."

"A coma." I try to wrap my brain around that word. "When will he come out of it?"

"I have had many cases like this in the past. Most have never woken up or died."

"Well aren't you a bucket of sunshine."

"I just gave you my professional opinion. I can't help it if you don't like what I had to say."

I take a couple of deep breaths to stop the growing rage inside me. _Who tells someone's family that their loved one is a goner? _I imagine myself strangling Sam's neurosurgeon but quickly reconsider that course of action. I'll never see Sam if I'm hauled away by security.

"When can I see my brother?" I try to say politely even though I really want to cuss him out.

"Sam's in recovery right now. Once he's settled in ICU, a nurse will come get you."

"Do you have any other questions for me?"

_Yeah, how can I get another doctor?_ "No, that's it."

Dr. Hastings swivels on his heels.

"And doctor my brother is going to recover. He's a fighter."

The surgeon turns around. "For his sake and yours, I hope he does." He continues down the corridor.

I didn't know if Dr. Hastings really means that or not but at this point I don't care. Sam is going to be fine.

* * *

Another hour passes before the nurse comes to get me. She is a short, heavyset older woman named Alicia. She seems nice. I am glad. I don't think I could handle another Dr. Hastings. I pause outside of Sam's room then slowly walk inside. Most of Sam's head is wrapped in a turban like dressing. He looks so pale. At least he's not on a ventilator. That's a good sign.

I drag a chair to his bedside and grasp his hand in mine. "I'm here, Sammy. I'm hoping that Dr. Hastings didn't say anything negative around you. Don't believe a word he said if he did."

Sam's body begins to rock back and forth. The monitors go haywire. Various doctors and nurses rush into the room. Alicia ushers me out into the hallway.

Please let Sammy be okay.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. They are all Kripke's creation. **

**Thanks to my beta, Shannon! A special thanks to blue peanut m and m for helping me to flesh my story out more and for all your suggestions!**

**Chapter 4**

While the medical staff works on my brother, I frantically pace the hallway. After what seems like forever, Alicia, some other nurses and another doctor exit Sam's hospital room. The doctor's curly hair and goatee are slightly darker than his mocha skin.

His green eyes focus on me as he walks in my direction. "Alicia told me you're Sam's brother. I'm Dr. Brennan, Sam's neurologist." He outstretched his large hand.

"Dean. How's my brother?"

"Sam had a seizure. It's very common with the type of injury that your brother has sustained. I gave him a medication that should stop that from happening again."

"I thought Dr. Hastings was Sam's doctor."

"He still is but with cases like Sam's a team approach seems to be more effective for the patient."

"Can I see my brother?"

"He's stable now but visiting hours are almost over."

"I'm staying. My brother doesn't like hospitals. Ever since he was little, I have always stayed with him when he was hospitalized."

"The hospital normally doesn't allow it but I guess I can make an exception."

"Thank you, doctor."

"Do you have any more questions?"

"What are my brother's chances of recovering from this?"

"I'm an optimist. Your brother is young which increases his chances of coming out of the coma but if he does Sam's in for a long recovery. I have other patients to see to but if any other questions pop into your mind, just have one of the nurses page me."

"Okay. Night, Doc."

"Night." Dr. Brennan heads in the opposite direction.

I pause outside my brother's door. Dr. Brennan said that Sam was stable but does that mean if he does recover that he will continue to have seizures like that for the rest of his life_? Get a grip, Dean. Just because Sam had one seizure that doesn't mean he will continue to have them_. I slowly walk inside. A nasal cannula is now inserted into Sam's nostrils. An additional IV bag is hanging from the IV stand. _Probably the new medication Sam's doctor was talking about._ As I push the chair to Sam's bedside, it scrapes across the floor. I fight to keep my eyes open as I settle into the chair but my eyelids feel like they weigh a ton. They blink in slow motion as my eyes remain fixed on my brother.

Author's note: I am sorry that it took me a while to post a new chapter. I was recently diagnosed with fibromyalgia so I haven't been feeling too well.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. They are all Kripke's creation. **

**Thanks to my beta, Shannon! A special thanks to blue peanut m and m for helping me to flesh my story out more and for all your suggestions!**

**Chapter 5**

Someone's hand grasps my shoulder and gently shakes me. I open one eye t­­hen the other. "Hey, Bobby." _I had forgotten I had even called him._

"How's Sam?"

I briefly look at him before my gaze drops to the black and white tiled floor. Bobby sits in a chair at the end of Sam's bed. "Not good. His doctor says that he's in a coma and he doesn't know…" I couldn't bring myself to say those words.

"If he'll ever wake up." Bobby finishes my statement.

"Yeah."

"Have you eaten anything?"

"Not since last night."

"Why don't you go grab something? I'll stay with Sam."

"I'm not hungry."

"Dean, I know you're upset about Sam but you have to take care of yourself. Sam would want you to."

I run my fingers through my spiked sandy hair. "You're right, Bobby. I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

"Make it thirty."

"Okay, thirty." _He can really be a hard ass at times but sometimes that's just what I need._

* * *

I stare at the scrambled eggs and sausage. I know I should eat but I just can't. Maybe if I play with my food for a while my appetite will return but I seriously doubt that.

"Is there something wrong with your food?" The woman's smile crinkles the crow's feet around her blue eyes. She is dressed in pink scrubs and munching on an apple cinnamon muffin. She sits down across from me.

I try to plaster a smile on my face but I don't think I am that successful. "No, my brother, Sam's upstairs and I just got some terrible news about him."

The young woman suddenly becomes serious. "I'm sorry to hear that." She sweeps her long blond hair into a ponytail. "One thing I've learned from working in this place is that there's always hope no matter what the doctor says. I've seen patients that they said were goners recover. I'm sure your brother will fall into that category. I'm Charlize by the way." She grabs a napkin and wipes off her hand before extending it.

We shake hands. "Dean."

"Nice to meet you." She pushes her chair back and stands. "I am sorry to have to run off but I just came off a sixteen hour shift and my body is screaming for sleep. Maybe I'll see you in the cafeteria again some time."

"Anything's possible."

"Take care, Dean."

"You, too."

The nurse disappears into the hallway.

I continue looking at my food. Bobby is right. Sam would want me to take care of myself. I load my fork with fluffy yellow eggs, shovel them into my mouth and force myself to chew and swallow. I repeat that action until my plate is empty. I didn't even savor what I had just eaten but at least I had gotten it down. I chase my breakfast with a cup of black coffee before heading back to Sam's room.

I take my time walking to my brother's hospital room. I hate seeing him lying in that bed. I hate that there's nothing I can do for him. Maybe Charlize is right. Maybe Sam will recover in time. I have to hold onto that hope. I inhale deeply before stepping inside his room.

"Any change?"

Bobby is sitting by Sam. "I'm afraid not. Dr. Hastings came while you were gone. He said that if Sam doesn't improve after a month, we may want to consider putting him into a long term care facility."

I take a seat next him. "A lot can happen in a month. If it comes to that, I'll take care of Sammy. I'm not putting him in some facility. I won't."

"I'll do whatever I can to help if it comes to that."

"Thanks, Bobby."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. They are all Kripke's creation. **

**Thanks to my beta, Shannon! A special thanks to blue peanut m and m for helping me to flesh my story out more and for all your suggestions!**

**Chapter 6**

TWO WEEKS LATER

"Coffee break." Charlize waves two coffees in the air.

"Hi, Char," I said.

"Charlize." Bobby answers from behind me.

"Hi, guys. How's Sam doing today?"

"No change." I try not to sound too disappointed but when it comes to Sammy it's hard to keep my emotions in check.

Charlize takes a few steps closer to Sam's bed and leans in close to his ear. "Sam, I hope you wake up really soon. Your brother and uncle really miss you."

"So Dean how about that break?"

I open my mouth to speak but Bobby suddenly becomes my mouthpiece. "He'd loved to."

_Damn, I was going to say no. What if Sammy comes to and I'm not here?_

"Where will you two be?"

"The courtyard. It's on the first floor."

"See you two later. If anything changes, I'll give you a holler."

As Charlize begins to stroll down the hallway, I give Bobby a dirty look and he shoots one right back at me. You really need a break he mouths to me before I head down the hallway to catch up to her at the elevator. Once we step off the elevator, we walk down two corridors, make a right and exit the hospital through a side door.

A large stone fountain is situated in the middle of the courtyard. At the top of the fountain is a lion's head spouting water out of its mouth. Beds of yellow and red tulips are planted behind the various wooden benches scattered around the area. Trees are strategically placed so that each bench is blocked from the sun's rays.

After we sit on one of the far benches, Charlize offers me one of the coffees. "You like yours black right?"

"How did you know?"

"I'm a trained professional. I notice such things."

"Oh, really? You must be really sharp to notice that from one breakfast."

"What can I say? It's a gift."

I briefly smile and continue sipping my coffee. An awkward silence falls between us.

"You remember the pep talk I gave you the first time we met."

"Yeah."

"I didn't tell you the whole truth. I was speaking from experience. When I was about seventeen, I was out with some friends. It was raining very hard. My friend was driving too fast and the car flipped over. Everyone else walked away with a few scratches and scrapes but I wasn't so lucky. I was in a coma for almost a year. The doctors kept telling my parents that my case was hopeless but they refused to believe that. Eventually they took me home and took turns caring for me. They hired a physical therapist to keep my muscles from wasting away. When I did finally wake up, my recovery wasn't a walk in the park. I had to relearn how to walk and talk again but I'm living proof that a person can recover from a horrible accident like that."

"Thanks for telling me that. I really needed to hear that. I've been trying to stay positive for Sammy but it's really hard."

Char puts her hand on mine. "You know you don't have to be the Rock of Gibraltar all the time. It's normal to feel the way you're feeling. My parents went through the same thing."

"How did they get through it?"

"They did a lot of praying."

"Unfortunately I'm not the religious type."

Char smiles at me. "You don't have to be. I have you covered. I say a prayer for you and Sam every night."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." She looks down at her watch. "Unfortunately I have to go my break's over." She rises from the bench.

"Thanks for being my sounding board."

"I'm sure if the shoe was on the other foot, you would do the same for me. I'll see you later."

"How about I walk you to your floor?"

"Sure."

**Author's note: I am thinking I will probably try to finish this story in two or three more chapters but I will just have to see. Sorry it took a while for the update. I normally do all my writing at night but this new supplement I am taking to combat my fibromyalagia makes me sleepy.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. They are all Kripke's creation. **

**Thanks to my beta, Shannon! A special thanks to blue peanut m and m for helping me to flesh out my story more and for all your suggestions!**

**Chapter 7**

ONE MONTH LATER

Sam opens his eyes. I press the call button. I call his name several times but his eyes don't shift my way. Dr. Brennan comes into the room, flashes a penlight into Sam's eyes and asks him to follow the light.

Nothing.

He reaches into his lab coat and removes an instrument that looks like a small tomahawk to check Sammy's reflexes. Sam told me once that it's called a reflex hammer. I'm always amazed at the abundance of information stored in his brain. I'm surprised the kid's head hasn't exploded from it all.

No response to that test either.

"So what's the verdict, doc? Is he coming out of the coma?"

Sam's doctor has a grim look on his face. I have a feeling I'm not going like what he is about to tell me.

"I'm afraid not. Patients in Sam's condition sometimes spontaneously open their eyes. I wish I had more encouraging news for you. Do you have any more questions for me?"

"No. Thanks, Doc."

"If anything comes to mind after I leave, just have one of the nurses page me?"

"Sure."

TWO WEEKS LATER

All the necessary medical equipment has been delivered to Bobby's house and arrangements have been made for a physical therapist to come several times a week so Sam's muscles wouldn't atrophy. To pay for Sam's ongoing medical care, I have taken a job as a mechanic at a local garage. I hate being away from Sammy during the day but it can't be helped. A home health nurse has been coming everyday to see to Sam's self care and to administer his anti-convulsant medication. Her name is Heather. She is really nice and takes really good care of Sammy while I'm gone.

Sam won't always be like this. I keep telling myself. Maybe the more I say it the more I'll really believe it.

Each night after work, I read Sam articles from _National Geographic, PC World, SmartComputing and Wired_ and reminisce about fun times we had as kids. While eating my dinner, I scour the internet for anything that could possibly help my brother.

TWO MONTHS LATER

Char has been calling at least once a week to see how Sam and I are doing. She promises she'll come out to see us once she gets some time off. Talking to her has really helped me. Char is a constant reminder that Sam could recover and lead a normal life again. I really like her. If things were different, we might have eventually become more than friends but Sam is my number one priority right now. Everything else has to take a backseat.

My nightly searches finally pay off. I find a treatment with a fifty percent success rate with comatose patients. Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy. Just two problems. The facility is in Florida and the website doesn't say how much the treatment will cost.

"I think I might have found something to help you, Sammy."

Every time I talk to Sam I hope he will suddenly become aware of my presence or give me some sign that he is still in there but his blank eyes continue to stare at the ceiling. Maybe I am just fooling myself that Sam will wake up someday. But it hasn't been that long. Just three months. I want to give Sammy as much time as he needs to heal. I look at the website again. It wouldn't hurt to call. I turn on my cell and dial. Unfortunately the center is closed so I leave a voicemail. Soon after that call, the door slams and footsteps approach the library now a makeshift bedroom for Sam.

"Hey."

"Hey, Bobby. I think I might have found something to help Sam. Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy. I left a message with Dr. Marcus Spencer."

Bobby rubs his reddish brown bread. "Dr. Marcus Spencer. Is this facility in Florida?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I know him. A while back I helped him and his family. At that time he wasn't working with comatose patients. He said if there was ever anything he could do for me just let him know. I'll give him a call tomorrow about Sam."

"Thanks, Bobby."

"No thanks needed. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you boys. You're family. You need anything else before I turn in?"

"I think that about covers it. Night, Bobby."

"Night."

**Author's note: Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy is a real therapy used on comatose patients. Unfortunately it's not covered by most health insurances. I will go into further detail in the next chapter. I would also like to thank all the people who continue to read, favorite and write reviews for my story. You are the best.**


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. They are all Kripke's creation.

Thanks to my beta, Shannon! A special thanks to blue peanut m and m for helping me to flesh out my story more and for all your suggestions!

Chapter 8

A WEEK LATER

Sammy would be proud of me. I actually flew down to Lauderdale-by-the Sea, Florida. Granted I had to do a lot of deep breathing, hummed Metallica in my head the whole time and kept my eyes glued to the front of the airplane but I made it.

It has been years since we were last in Florida. Tampa to be exact. I had a fling with a waitress there. The thought of her makes me shudder. What a big mistake that was?

Dr. Spencer has arranged for Sam to stay at Summit Hospital, which is close to the Ocean Hyperbaric Neurologic Center and the Cascade Motel where I am staying. Tomorrow Sam will be evaluated to see whether the therapy will do him any good. I can't sleep. I part the orange curtains covering the motel windows. The light from the full moon is shining down on the few cars in the parking lot. A Subaru Impreza, a Ford Escort, a newer version of the Chevy Impala and my rental car, a green Toyota Echo. I close the drapes and pace around the room for several minutes before hopping onto the bed and flicking on the television. Nothing really catches my interest. The room just feels so empty without Sammy. I miss his laugh. His insistence that I talk about how I'm feeling. Sam huddled over his laptop doing research for our next case. The pranks we would play on each other. I hope that this treatment will help you, Sammy.

I turn off the television and try to get some shuteye.

* * *

The alarm rings.

9:30 a.m.

Two hours until Sam's appointment.

I swing my legs to the side of the bed, do an overhead stretch and drag myself into the bathroom.

* * *

The ambulance ride to the Ocean Hyperbaric Neurologic Center takes fifteen minutes. The facility is a three-story tan and red brick building with large rectangular windows on all sides. It looks more like an office building than a medical center.

The paramedics wheel the gurney through two sliding doors. A short Indian doctor with glasses meets us. Most of his hair is black but there are a few streaks of gray.

The doctor extends his hand. "I'm Dr. Marcus Spencer. You must be Dean. Bobby told me all about you."

We shake hands. "Nice to meet you, Doctor."

Dr. Spencer's gaze shifts to the paramedics. "Follow me, gentlemen."

We walk down a corridor, make a right and go straight down the hallway until we reach two wide wooden doors. The doctor presses a circular metallic button to the right of them and the doors fly open. The emergency medical technicians push Sam to the middle of the room.

"Thanks, gentlemen. Have a good day."

"You, too." The medics head in the direction from which we had just come.

"So what's next, Doc?"

"I am going to perform a single photo emission computed tomography scan or SPECT for short. This test will help me to see if the hyperbaric oxygen therapy will be beneficial to Sam by showing how much living or dead tissue is in his brain."

The doctor wheels an IV stand over to Sam's stretcher and inserts the needle. "First I will do a baseline to see how Sam's brain looks now. This IV contains a radioactive tracer."

"Sam's not going to glow in the dark after this test. Is he?"

Dr. Spencer laughs. "No, I promise you this procedure is completely safe. The tracer will break down in his system within a few hours."

After starting the IV, he aims a strange looking device at Sam's head.

"What's that?"

"A special gamma camera. It will allow me to pinpoint the position of the tracer and see the energy released by it. If you like I can show you to the waiting area."

"Is there any way I could stay with my brother?"

"I guess you could observe in the control room." I follow him into a room half the size of the room we just came from.

Dr. Spencer sits in front of computer screen, presses a couple of buttons and the test begins.

"Bobby really didn't go into specifics. I am curious how you two met. It's not like you run in the same circles."

The doctor smiles briefly then becomes serious again. "It was through Ian, one of my closest friends and colleagues. Being a man of science, I never really put much stock in poltergeists but that all changed when my family and I moved down here from Pittsburgh. I started seeing a young woman in our new house. She would only appear at night. Her nightgown was bloodied. Her throat was slit. At first, I thought I was going crazy. Until my wife and son said, they had seen her too. Then my wife was attacked. Luckily, she walked away with only some minor cuts and bruises. I thought the female specter was responsible for her injuries but then a male ghost began to appear. He told us to get out of his house. I didn't want anything else to happen to my family so I moved them into a nearby motel. I was afraid to tell anyone at work. Ian kept asking me about what was going on and I finally told him. I was expecting him to start laughing but instead he shuffled me into his office and told me he had a similar problem in the past. That's when he told me about Bobby."

"So what was the deal with the ghosts?"

"The husband had killed his wife and then killed himself. They had been haunting that house ever since."

"I guess the realtor forgot to mention that."

"Yes, I guess she did or maybe she didn't know about. The testing is complete." Dr. Spencer points to Sam's brain scans on the computer monitor. "See these yellow and red areas. All of these areas are healthy tissue. The red areas indicate brain activity."

"What does all that mean? Can you help, Sam?"

"Yes, I believe we can."

"How does this hyperbaric stuff work and how long will it take to see any improvement?

"The air we normally breathe contains only 19 to 21% oxygen. During his treatment, Sam will be breathing 100% oxygen under increased atmospheric pressure. All of Sam's blood and bodily fluids will be exposed to the healing benefits of this type of oxygen known as molecular oxygen. Molecular oxygen enhances white blood cell function and promotes the formation of new capillary and peripheral blood vessels. This results in infection control and a faster healing for conditions like Sam's. As far as how long it will take to see improvement that depends. Each patient is different, Dean. I wish I could give you an exact time frame but I can't."

"So let me get this straight? Sam is going to be dosed with some supercharged oxygen and that's going to help heal the tissue in his brain."

"Precisely."

"When can we get started?"

"Today if you like?"

"Yeah the sooner the better."

Dr. Spencer picks up the phone and dials. "Could you send two orderlies down? I need a patient wheeled to one of the HBOT rooms. Thanks."

A few minutes later, two burly men enter the examination room and take Sam two rooms down the hallway.

The hyperbaric chamber resembles one of those pods that space travelers sleep in so they can travel to another galaxy. I can thank Sam for actually knowing that. He would give me that puppy dog look which I have never been able to resist. Then we would watch all his favorite science fiction movies for hours.

The two men gingerly lift Sam off the gurney and onto the table and slide him inside the cylindrical tube.

The doctor's gaze rests on me. "Sam's treatment is going to take one to two hours. You are welcome to stay here or you could sit in the waiting room across the hall."

"I'll stay right here."

**Author's Notes: There really is a facility located in Lauderdale-by-the-Sea called the Ocean Hyperbaric Neurologic Center. I hope my explanation of the Hyperbaric Oxygen Therapy wasn't too technical. Dr. Marcus Spencer came from my imagination. All the information that I found on hyperbaric oxygen therapy is from .com.**

**I am going to try to finish this story before Season 5 begins. I'm thinking one or two more chapters to finish it up.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. They are all Kripke's creation. **

**Thanks to my beta, Shannon! A special thanks to blue peanut m and m for helping me to flesh out my story more and for all your suggestions!**

**Chapter 9**

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Sam blinks his eyes. I notice a light in his eyes that wasn't there before. I think Sammy's finally coming back to me.

**TWO MONTHS LATER**

Sam is communicating with his eyes. One blink for yes and two for no.

**THREE MONTHS LATER**

Sam said his first words today. "Wh-at hap-pen-ed, De-an?" No three words ever sounded sweeter.

**FOUR MONTHS LATER**

Sammy has been diagnosed with aphasia. Evidently, it's common in people that have suffered a traumatic brain injury. The doc says aphasia interferes with a person's ability to process language but their intelligence remains the same. Some people with this condition have a difficult time reading and/or writing. Sam is having problems with both. I hate to see my little brother struggling with things he did so easily before the accident. Damn that drunken college kid! My brother has been through enough in his young life already. He doesn't deserve this.

**FIVE MONTHS LATER**

"I thought we would try something different today, Sam."

"Like what?" It's not hard to miss Sam's lack of enthusiasm.

Steve, Sam's physical therapist, steps aside revealing a German Shepherd lying on the mat behind him. "I'd like you to meet, Buddy."

"Buddy, this is Sam."

The dog walks to Sam's wheelchair and licks his hand.

"I knew you two would hit it off," Steve says.

With that one simple action, Buddy manages to bring a smile to Sammy's face. That is a sight I thought I wouldn't see for a while.

Sam pats the dog's head and runs his fingers down his torso. I don't think Sam even realizes that his hand and arm aren't shaking. I have to give Steve credit. He's a clever one.

"How is Buddy going to fit into my physical therapy?"

"Think of Buddy as your physical therapy aide. Today he'll help you work on strengthening your hands and arms. He's off to a good start already."

Sam looks confused for a moment before it dawns on him what his physical therapist is talking about.

"Come here, boy." Steve pats a nearby mat table.

Buddy jumps onto the table and I push Sam next to it.

"Thanks, Dean."

"No problem. Just think of me as Sam's other PT aide."

"Sam, I want you to touch Buddy's head and then lower your arm back to the armrest of your wheelchair. We'll try five minutes with your right arm and then change to your opposite arm."

Steve takes a stopwatch from his jeans and sets the timer. "Are you ready, Sam?"

Sam nods. "As ready as I'm going to be."

His therapist presses the start button. "Sam, I have to check on some other patients. I'll be right back."

"Okay."

"Don't worry, Steve. I'll be like a drill sergeant."

Sammy gives me a dirty look but I pretend not to see it.

His long arm trembles as he slowly raises his hand to touch Buddy's head. His fingertips finally reach the dog's head.

"Alright, Sammy. I knew you could do it."

"I'm glad you did. I wasn't so sure." He lets his hand rest on the German Shepherd's head for a moment before he attempts to lower his arm back to his wheelchair. His arm is shaking even more now.

"Come on, Sammy. You're almost there."

He places his arm back on the armrest. I can tell that exercise took a lot out of him but I decide not to say anything about it.

"That wasn't so bad was it?"

Sam throws me a "yeah, right" look. "Speak for yourself."

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

Sam slides his right foot forward then his left. He takes one more step before his legs give out. Thankfully, he's in a harness. Steve comes over to help him.

"No, I can do it!" Sammy's arms tremble as he tries to raise himself with the parallel bars. He makes it halfway and then falls back into the harness. He slams his fists against the bars.

"It's okay, Sammy. You did good. You'll do even better next time." I hold his wheelchair while Steve helps him inside.

My brother is quiet as Steve pushes him back to his room and helps him into his bed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Sam."

Sam nods his head but continues to stare at a wall in the opposite direction.

"See you, Steve."

"Bye, Dean."

I sit in a chair next to Sammy's bedside. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, Sam."

His tear filled turquoise eyes center on me. "What if I never get back to the way I was before the accident?"

"That's not going to happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know you. You have the same stubborn streak that all of us Winchesters have."

Sam cracks a smile.

"That along with having me will get you through this."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"I know I'm right. I'm older and wiser."

Sam wipes the tears from his face. "Okay, grasshopper."

**SEVEN MONTHS LATER**

Sammy is able to support himself with just the parallel bars. He's still a little unsteady so he has to use a walker when going to and from physical therapy.

Sam is still having trouble with his reading and writing. His brain is unable to process vowels. He keeps telling me that all the words look like gibberish. When he tries to write his name, all the vowels are missing. During one of the sessions with his occupational therapist, he got so frustrated that he tossed the pencil and paper against a wall. He apologized to the therapist but I can understand why he feels the way he does. He went to Stanford. Was headed to law school. And now he can barely read and write. I wish there was more I could do for him. Some way I could help him. But all I can do is be there for him and hope that is enough.

**EIGHT MONTHS LATER**

Sammy's legs have gotten stronger. He has ditched the walker for a cane. Sam is also walking the halls with Buddy. Every time I see them together, it brings a smile to my face. It's nice to see Sammy up and around.

**NINE MONTHS LATER**

Sam's reading and writing haven't gotten any better. His speech therapist has decided to try something different. Text to speech software and speech recognition software. She downloaded both onto Sam's laptop. The text to speech software will read aloud text from e-mails, e-books, word processing documents and web pages while the speech recognition software will convert anything that Sam says to text. It will even allow him to turn his notebook computer on and off just by saying it.

**TEN MONTHS LATER**

Sam is still learning how to deal with not being able to read and write properly. He doesn't seem as frustrated since his speech therapist installed those two programs on his laptop. He really is becoming a wiz at using both of them but I'm not surprised he was always good with computers.

**ELEVEN MONTHS LATER**

Sam has been discharged from the medical center. He is walking without a cane. You wouldn't be able to even tell he had been in a coma except for the whole reading and writing thing. I'm glad I didn't buy into Dr. Hastings' negativity. Look how far my brother has come.

Sam scans the motel parking lot. A look of confusion is on his face as he looks at me. "Where's the Impala?"

"With Bobby. The green Toyota Echo is mine."

My younger brother gives me a funny look.

"It was the only car Enterprise had left."

"Wait so you flew here?"

"Yeah, I flew."

Sam upturns his lips. "I'm very impressed." He pauses at the trunk of the sedan. "You know I heard you when you read and talked to me every night. Thanks for not giving up on me."

I open the trunk and toss my duffel inside. "You would have done the same for me."

"In a heartbeat," Sam places his bag alongside mine.

I close the trunk and sink into the driver's seat. Sam climbs into the passenger's seat beside me. Just like old times.

I cast a sideways glance my brother's way. "I'm glad to have you back. I don't know what I would have done if you never recovered."

"But I did and that's all that matters."

I nod my head in agreement, turn the ignition and point the Toyota Echo in the direction of the airport.

**THE END**

**Author's note: Aphasia is a real condition that affects people who have suffered a traumatic brain injury. Dogs are being used in rehabilitation therapy. After reading an article about it, I knew I wanted to include it in this story if I was able to. I hope that you enjoyed the final chapter to this story and that the ending was satisfying. Thanks to all the people who have read and reviewed my story. Until next time. Take care.**


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